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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747193">Photo Finish</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuasiOuster/pseuds/quasiouster'>quasiouster (QuasiOuster)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pictures and Images [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Good Doctor (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:48:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuasiOuster/pseuds/quasiouster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire and Neil are running their first 10K race together. When Claire gets an unexpected injury, it helps to have an attentive surgeon as a running partner. Pre-relationship...sorta.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Browne &amp; Neil Melendez, Claire Browne/Neil Melendez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pictures and Images [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A little story that's been lingering on my computer. Excuse any typos as I haven't done my usual thorough editing on it (my job is keeping me very busy!). I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Is that the best you got?”</p><p>Claire rolls her eyes at Neil and refuses to take the bait. Instead, she keeps her pace steady and notices he remains at her side. She returns a smug smile.</p><p>“There is no way I’m letting you trick me out of making my time because I ran too hard too early. You just can’t stand me winning at anything.”</p><p>Neil scoffs as he dodges a runner on his left. “That’s not true. I was very gracious about your fundraising prowess just yesterday.”</p><p>“Barely! And I still think I should have recorded you conceding.”</p><p>“Next time, then,” he says, laughing.</p><p>Nearly three-fourths of the way through their 10K, Claire admits to herself that she’s having a lot of fun. She’s not one for races preferring to do a regular timed run and moving on. But Neil had found this race for charity and had incentivized her with a friendly wager about which one of them could raise the most money.</p><p>Claire had won by a hair.</p><p>Of course, it had all been about strategy she’d reveled in telling him. He’d certainly cornered the market on the small pool of high-dollar donor in the senior staff and his colleagues in the upper echelons on the hospital. And his own residents, naturally. Park, Morgan, and Murphy had at least been apologetic about it.</p><p>On the other hand, Claire, focused on the hustle of recruiting small-dollar donors – the nurses and support staff and interns. And it hadn’t even taken much persuasion when she’d explained the bet between her and Neil. So even though Neil had led during most of their competition, she’d come from behind at the last minute to out-raise him by $40. She planned on gloating about that for a while.</p><p>They pass one of the checkpoints, and the two of them continue to chat about their average times and how they’ll likely to finish the last leg. They agree that doing a full marathon is probably too ambitious for the both of them, but never say never. When Claire looks over at Neil, she notices that he’s as much of a sweaty mess as she is, although he makes it look good as usual. The man could spend a week wandering the woods after taking a dip in a swamp and a stroll through a junkyard and still look like he stepped out of GQ magazine.</p><p>Also, nothing new is her random diversions into thoughts of his attractiveness – specifically how attracted she is to him on any given day. At this point, it’s a truth that’s settled into her mental baseline. Is it Tuesday? Yep, still attracted to my boss and friend. Carry on.</p><p>In fact, they’ve both pretty much accepted the fact that they have these not so appropriate feelings for each other that they can’t act on. In so many words, they’d agreed that rather than keeping their distance as they torture themselves with unfulfilled sexual tension or tempt fate by indulging in some kind of secret affair, they’d opt for the status quo and just not talk about it.</p><p>They cut down on some of their more dangerous social outings – the dinners where they’d linger over a glass of wine or a shared dessert, or after-work drinks where they’d hang out until closing time, feigning excuses about sobering up when they’d long switched to non-alcoholic beverages. They did occasionally go bowling if one or the other needed a pick me up. And their runs became even more regular, a necessary indulgence that became the anchor to their friends without benefits situation.</p><p>For now.</p><p>They also don’t talk about how the more they string each other along like this, the more it looks like biding their time until she’s done with her residency and they can explore something more without the extra complications. It helps that after being named chief resident, her time is more occupied working with Dr. Lim on scheduling and the administrative side to the position. And although she thought at least Morgan and Park would be a little bitter about losing out to her, they quickly discovered that when their chief resident is friends with the boss, they can get away with a lot more than they had before. Even though they knew she hated it, they’d frequently joke about how Melendez was more likely to agree to anything if the request came from Claire.</p><p>“Hey, if we place in our age group, do you think we’ll get a ribbon or something?” she asks Neil.</p><p>He laughs. “If you weren’t such a baby about picking up the pace, we could find out.”</p><p>“Oh please, you’d end up gasping and wheezing a mile from the finish line. Steady there, Speed Racer.”</p><p>Neil pretends to be put out, humor dancing in his eyes. “I don’t think you want to—”</p><p>Before he can finish the thought, another runner wedges between them rushing to get in front. At the first brush of another person in such close proximity, Claire frowns, wondering what the hell this dude’s problem is. She and Neil are clearly run together, in mid-sentence actually. It’s poor etiquette to get in between runners like that in the first place, but from the corner of her eye she can see enough space to her right for the runner to have diverted himself and gone around, even if it would have taken half a second longer.</p><p>That’s the last leisurely thought she has before she feels herself falling as the man is shoving her roughly to the side to get through the narrow space between her and Neil. His elbow digs into her ribcage and he stumbles at the contact, correcting his stride by pushing her into the curb.</p><p>Claire hits the ground on her side, trying to roll in a way that braces her fall while protecting her hands. Thankfully, the top half of her body is heading for a patch of grass but the trajectory and her angle means her shin is skidding along pavement. The impact knocks the wind out of her as her head slams into the ground.There are voices around her, yells at the offender from other runners, people in the crowd shouting that they’ve taken his picture and will send it to the organizers. The light dims around her as several people bend down to check that she’s okay.</p><p>As she shakes the stars from her vision, clearing the disorientation and finally noticing the stinging in her leg, what she most registers is Neil’s worried words in her ear as he strokes her cheek to assess her injuries.</p><p>“Claire, talk to me. Where do you hurt?”</p><p>Her eyes flash toward him and soften at seeing the controlled panic as he slips into professional mode. She knows he cares about her, but there’s something to seeing that concern and fear so immediate and close that gets to her.</p><p>She lets out a stream of air as she breathes in and out to calm her racing heart. With each breath, she takes stock of her body. The grass really had cushioned her head against the harsh contact of her fall. The arm she landed on is uncomfortable but there’s no pain. Her leg though, that felt like it was on fire where it had scraped against the pavement. Despite the long running pants she’s wearing, she can tell that it’s torn up and bruised.</p><p>“Claire?” Neil’s plea is just short of anguish at the fact that she hasn’t answered him.</p><p>“I’m okay,” she says. “Just catching my breath. My head’s fine.” Neil turns her head, checks her neck movement, and looks straight into her eyes. She knows he’s evaluating whether she has a concussion, but his piercing attention tightens something in her stomach before she shakes it off. “I’ll probably be achy in the morning but nothing’s sprained or broken I don’t think.” She reaches for his hand to help her sit up.</p><p>One of the bystanders hands her a bottle of water and Claire smiles up at her. Neil continues to examine her, checking her arm for cuts or abrasions.</p><p>“I definitely scraped up my leg, but I think it’s okay. Mostly that asshole knocked the wind out of me.” Looking around, she notices a few runners looking down at her with equal parts worry and anger. Directing her attention to the runners, she smiles. “Please, don’t mess up your finish time for me. I swear I’m okay, just a little shaken.” She glances over to Neil who’s now peaking underneath her pant leg. “I promise. I’m a doctor and I have my own personal surgeon on hand,” she adds, chuckling at the deep frown of concentration on Neil’s face as he inspects her injury.</p><p>“It doesn’t seem to be bleeding too much, but you’ll definitely want to get it dressed.” He’s totally focused on her and not paying any attention to how she’s teasing him for the sake of their audience. The stray runners reluctantly rejoin the race while the few bystanders hanging around give the two of them some space. “Can you walk the rest of the way or should we try to get a lift?”</p><p>Claire reaches for his hands so he can help her to her feet. Besides an expected burning sensation where she’s scraped her leg, she feels okay. Neil holds on to her for a few beats longer than appropriate as she takes stock of each body part. Her ankles are fine, her back too. She lets him go and brushes the grass and dirt from her body. Testing her movement, she first takes a few ginger steps and then works up to a light jog in place.</p><p>“I think I can finish. I won’t be making a very impressive time, but that’s alright.”</p><p>She begins running in place again and then begins a slow pace beside of the flow of runners. Neil watches from a step behind inspecting her stride and examining her for any signs of distress or pain. Satisfied, he joins her side again after a minute or so of evaluation.</p><p>“I hope somebody got a good picture of that jackass,” he mutters.</p><p>“No kidding. Who does that? It’s a charity race not the Boston Marathon.”</p><p>They continue at a slower pace and make decent progress toward the finish line. About half a kilometer from the end, though, Claire starts to feel the pain of her leg set in. She tries to look down without alerting Neil, but all she sees is a sweaty, lycra-encased leg same as the other one. She can’t tell if the dark patch is from any excessive bleeding or the spray of water they’d encountered right before the last kilometer.</p><p>“You alright?” Of course, Neil is watching her like a hawk.</p><p>“Just the adrenaline wearing off, I assume. I can make it, even if I have to drag myself over the finish line.”</p><p>At this point, she wouldn’t even call their pace a jog. Each step is a ginger stride forward. It must be frustrating for Neil to go this slow, yet he’s still hopping at a run by her side. She hadn’t bothered to tell him to go ahead since she knew he wouldn’t do it.</p><p>By the time they see the finish line ahead, Claire has given up all pretense of running. She’s now at a hobble. Neil at first let her go at her own pace without pestering her, and then one too many winces caused him to wrap his arm around her and lean her weight against him to take the pressure off her leg.</p><p>When they crossed the finish line, it was in each other’s arms.</p><p>Immediately, they were approached by a staff person with credentials. “Are you the woman that got pushed at Marker 8?” Claire and Neil nodded. “We’ve been waiting for you to finish. We received reports from a lot of people about you getting pushed down. The runner who did it ended up placing but then got disqualified for breaking our code of conduct.”</p><p>“I’m sure he loved that,” Claire said, grinning. Now that she wasn’t putting pressure on her leg, the throbbing had become manageable.</p><p>“Screw that guy,” the organizer said. His info is gonna get flagged in all the area races.”</p><p>“Good,” Neil grumbled.</p><p>“Do you need a paramedic? The tent is just across the street and our volunteers can check you out.”</p><p>Claire considers it, but doesn’t think there’s much they can do here that she can’t do herself at home. “Thanks for checking in. I feel okay except for an abrasion on my leg. It probably just needs to be cleaned and dressed, and I can do that at home.” The woman looks skeptical. “Don’t worry, I’m a doctor.” She points to Neil. “And this guy’s a doctor, and I can already tell he’s going to mother hen me to death over this.”</p><p>“Not to death,” he clarifies. “You’re on my service on Monday so my concern is entirely self-interested.” She chuckles at his joke and he squeezes her side not having let her go. He’s still encouraging her to lean on him to take the pressure off her leg.</p><p>The woman looks between them as they hold each other’s gaze just a little too long. “I see you’re in good hands. I’ll leave you to it,” she offers, smirking in her retreat.</p><p>“Well,” Neil says, “let’s get you home and clean this up. It’s a good thing you have tomorrow to recover because it’s going to be hurt like hell.”</p><p>They first hit the water station to hydrate and rest a little more from their less than stellar finish. Then Neil leads her slowly toward the shuttles that would take them back to the parking area. They’re quiet during the ride, their bodies recovering from the long run. Claire catches Neil glancing over every so often to check her pain levels.</p><p>Once they’ve hobbled back to Neil’s car, he tucks her into the passenger seat and begins their trek homeward.</p><p>“You want to pick up lunch on the way? I’m starving.” Claire asks without really thinking about it. She’s tired and her leg has continued to throb at an annoying level.</p><p>Neil glances at her in confusion. “Don’t you want to take care of that leg first?”</p><p>“It’ll keep while we get some takeout.” She pauses, not having considered that maybe he’s not comfortable with that. Even though they haven’t explicitly laid out the parameters of their friendly engagement, they had stopped sharing leisurely meals together on their off hours.</p><p>“You don’t have to if you want to get home and rest.” Claire turns her head to try to gauge whether she’s rattled him with her suggestion. Instead she sees the corner of his mouth pulling upward. He’d been joking with her.</p><p>“And miss my chance to mother hen you?” he teases. “No way.” She flops her head back frontward, closing her eyes in relief. “How about Chinese? Dumplings maybe?”</p><p>Claire hums in agreement. “That would be amazing.” She hears Neil’s soft chuckles next to her. “The place on Oak Street? I can call it in,” she offers and pulls out her phone.</p><p>Her first 10K race has certainly been eventful, she reflects. And sitting here next to Neil sweaty and dirty, likely bleeding and in considerable pain, she can’t think of when she’s had a better time lately.</p><p>TBC...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neil heads to the kitchen to unpack the Chinese takeout they brought into Claire’s apartment with them. They’d probably over-ordered, but they’d just run a 10K race and used it as an excuse to get all of their favorite items. And it’ll be great for leftovers they’d convinced themselves.</p><p>He’s just dropped Claire off in her room so she can change into something that would allow him to clean and dress her wound. They could tell from the patch on her leg that she’d done a fair bit of bleeding but it’s hard to tell whether it’s just from a few scratches or something more serious. The peek Neil had gotten onsite hadn’t been too helpful.</p><p>Just thinking about that jackass that had pushed her made his blood boil. It was poor form in terms of race etiquette but also just a colossal dick move that ended up not mattering anyway. He was glad to hear that they booted his ass from the race standings and considered the guy lucky he hadn’t been around to confront when he and Claire had finished.</p><p>It’s moments like this that frustrate him, feeling this protectiveness of Claire that’s just a bit too intimate and personal. Wanting to hold her to him and comfort her as if she’s his. But they’ve both ceded to an unspoken agreement to play things between them as platonic, not wanting the hassle of dealing with the sometimes powerful, always present desire for something more.</p><p>Finding the plates and silverware, he sets them on the table along with the food. He’ll wait to see how she’s holding up in suggesting beer or something milder to go with their meal.</p><p>That done, he moves to the couch to inspect the first aid kit she’d pointed him to. He pulls out a few items he knows he’ll need – gauze and scissors, alcohol, an ointment and some swabs. She’s pretty well-stocked he’s pleased to see.</p><p>As he’s laying everything out, he hears a yelp come from behind Claire’s closed door and he jumps up to check on her.</p><p>“Claire? You okay in there?” He raps lightly on the door, wanting to charge inside but knowing that wouldn’t be the best idea.  </p><p>“Yeah,” she responds shortly. He can tell she’s trying to control her breathing through some kind of pain.</p><p>“Are you sure? Can I come in.”</p><p>There’s a pause and now Neil’s really worried. “I, uh, I do need your help, but I’m not completely decent. Consider that a warning.” Neil’s pulse jumps and his brain conjures up the scenarios about what that could mean, how much of her tempting body is going to be on display for him to pretend not to notice.</p><p>He’s a professional and he can handle this, he tells himself. Even for someone he yearns for as much as he does Claire.</p><p>Neil puts his hand on the doorknob, but waits before turning it. “Noted. I promise to be a gentleman and a professional.” He opens the door and peeks inside.</p><p>She’s sitting on the bed still clad in the sports bra and tank top he’d left her in, so nothing indecent there. But she has one leg out of her tight running pants and the other leg mostly off until where it meets her injury. Although she’s ostensibly sitting in front of him in her underwear, it’s pretty tame on the exposure scale. He figures the best thing to do is ignore it. As much as he can.</p><p>“What’s going on?”</p><p>He wanders to her side and kneels down to get a closer look at the abrasion peeking out from her pants leg. He can instantly see the problem. While the area is still bloody, a lot of it had dried and is sticking uncomfortably to her skin. Getting her pants off would need to be a careful process and she’s not really at a great angle to separate the material from her wound. </p><p>“Yeah.” She can sense his understanding of the problem. Another attempt to pull at the pants leg causes her to wince.</p><p>“Hold on, let’s take things slowly.”</p><p>He inspects the area and leaves the room for a minute to grab some of the alcohol and cotton swabs. He also pops into the bathroom for a towel that he uses to lay across her lap for at least the bare minimum of modesty.</p><p>For the next ten minutes, it’s a painful and slow process of peeling each centimeter of cloth from Claire’s nasty abrasion. Each time another section is revealed, he frowns a little harder, so angry that this has happened to her. Between murmurs and grunts of pain from her, he tries to keep a steady flow of conversation to distract her, asking about her last shift in the ER and filling her in on the research meeting he’d gotten roped into earlier in the week. As he makes progress, thankfully, he can tell that it’s just an ugly injury and not serious. There’s a gash or two where she must have skidded along some pebbles or a twig, but otherwise the bleeding and bruising are from shallow injuries.</p><p>The entire time, he willfully ignores the compromising position they’re in – Claire half naked and him kneeling in front of her staring quite intently at her body.</p><p>At long last, Neil gets the entire area free and pulls her pants completely from her leg with a satisfying tug.</p><p>“Done.” He drops the pants at the side of her bed and grips her leg to finally inspect the whole area. “We’re going to need to clean this out more thoroughly, though. Do you have a small tub or something I can use to rinse this?”</p><p>Claire shakes her head. “I need to take a shower anyway. In addition to my leg being covered in dried blood and grime, I’m a sweaty mess.”</p><p>Neil scrutinizes her. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”</p><p>“Why not? I don’t have a head injury. No dizziness. I can kill two birds with one stone.”</p><p>It’s not Neil’s favorite idea. She could slip or lose her balance. And can she reach her injury to clean it out?</p><p>“Tell you what. How about we move to the bathroom and you can sit at the edge of the tub while I clean you up. And then the shower is all yours. When you’re done, I’ll wrap it up.”</p><p>Claire shrugs. “Whatever. Let’s get this done so I can stuff my face with dumplings.”</p><p>“That’s definitely a good incentive.” Laughing Neil stands up and throws the used cotton swabs in the trash by the door. When he turns back to her, she’s struggling to her feet looking a little wobbly as she gets her balance. She must have been holding the towel at some point but dropped it when she lost her balance, leaving her standing in front of him in a tank top and practical yet alluring gray panties.</p><p>He’s proud of himself for keeping his eyes up and not staring at her arguably perfect body.</p><p>“Need a hand?” he asks with a grin. She smirks but nods. He steps forward and again grabs her around the waist to lead her to the bathroom, the discarded towel slung across his arm. She uses his shoulder to balance herself as she steps into the tub.</p><p>They work in silent concert as Claire starts the water to get it the right temperature and Neil follows her direction to find a spare washcloth and soap. Once that’s located, he covers her lap again with the towel and takes a seat next to her on the tub. Automatically she offers him her leg to place in his lap, watching as he gently dabs at the abrasion with the soapy washcloth.</p><p>Neil takes his time, wanting to be thorough but also enjoying the weight of her leg laying across him and the feel of her soft, warm skin in his hands. When she gasps in pain after he rubs a little too hard, he utters a whispered “Sorry” while stroking the side of her leg in apology. She watches him work and he senses her eyes taking in the movement of his fingers along her leg and also her scrutiny of him. When he glances up briefly, she’s staring over at him with an unreadable look, serene given the circumstances but a bit of tension in her expression as well.</p><p>When he’s taken as much time as he dares with the task, he moves her leg back into the tub and runs water over it to make sure he gets all the stray blood and soap off of her. He’s already noticing other blue-tinged areas of her leg as the bruising sets in, and he reaches up to caress her inner shin, her lower thigh, the inside of her knee. She jerks back at that one. It snaps him back to awareness, fear creeping in that he’s taken unacceptable liberties with her.</p><p>“Sorry, I was just …” Looking up at her, ready to make excuses for his stray hands, he notices the laughter in her eyes. </p><p>She’s not mad. She’s ticklish.</p><p>Their gazes hold, and he’s fascinated by the light he sees in there and the openness to her expression. She’s leaning slightly toward him, shoulders relaxed. He knows he should turn away, knows he shouldn’t let himself be overcome by his attraction to her – their attraction to each other. But he can’t help it.</p><p>Only a few inches separate him from this person who fits so perfectly with him. He could lean over and give into exactly what he wants even if having it opens up a world of complications he’s sure would be worth it. She tilts her head to the side, probably doing the same temperature checks and calculations. Feeling the charged air between them, the simmering desire.</p><p>Sitting along a bathtub, her bloody and scraped up, him worried and overprotective, there’s no question about whether they want each other.</p><p>And again, the time isn’t quite right.</p><p>Not yet.</p><p>Neil reaches over and turns off the faucet. Claire follows his movements, a quiet recognition in her face at that state of things between them.</p><p>“I’ll leave you to it, then,” he says, voice huskier than he’d meant it to be. “Do you need anything?” He stands and places the damp washcloth on the sink.</p><p>Claire still sits on the edge of the tub, towel in her lap. “I think I’m okay. My compliments, Dr. Melendez.”</p><p>He chuckles. “I’ll take it. But seriously, call out if you need me.” She tilts her head back to take him in, eyebrow raised at his choice of words. Neil laughs. “You’re too much trouble sometimes, you know that?” She shrugs and he retreats out the door to give her some privacy.</p><p>TBC...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A shower and a plateful of dumplings later and Claire is feeling much better about her day.</p><p>She lays back into the couch, the TV playing across from her, Neil still picking at the broccoli on his plate as he watches the screen. They’ve settled on a documentary about the Civil Rights Movement and he seems really into it.</p><p>She twists her leg around to check on the newly dressed segment of her shin that Neil has coated with ointment and wrapped in gauze. The pain in the area has subsided to a dull throb and she’s hoping her over-the-counter pain reliever will kick in a little more.</p><p>Setting her plate on her stomach, she tries not to be too obvious in her appraisal of Neil. His hair is still wet from the quick shower he took while she’d slowly dressed herself after hers. He’s now in a new t-shirt and running pants. His feet are bare. There’s something very attractive about that – him sitting in her apartment next to her looking so relaxed and comfortable. At home.</p><p>She’d also changed into a t-shirt and shorts, the latter so he could better access her leg to treat and wrap the scrape. He’d been so gentle with her in the bathroom as he cleaned it, taking thorough to a whole new level. She watched intently as he gently cupped her leg in his hand, dabbed at the raw wound to cause as little pain as possible and apologizing when he pressed too hard.</p><p>They’d had another moment as he tended to her, probing fingers tracing along her calf, her thigh, that spot on the inside of her knee that sent a tickle and then a jolt of arousal through her body.</p><p>His response to their proximity and their enjoyment of his hands on her felt like a tipping point. What if she’d leaned in a little bit more? What if he’d let his fingers linger a little longer or a little higher? They teetered so close to the edge in those moments weighing the reasons why they should or shouldn’t indulge in each other.</p><p>The ‘should not’ prevailed. This time. There would be more moments, neither doubted that.</p><p>“You should eat something other than dumplings, you know?” Neil says not turning from the TV.</p><p>She smiles at the way he’s mother hen-ing her as she’d predicted.</p><p>“I did. You just haven’t been paying attention.”</p><p>“A side of stir-fried vegetables doesn’t count.” He draws his eyes to her finally. “And I’m always paying attention. Don’t ever forget it.”</p><p>She shakes her head but grins and hands him her plate to fill with more food from the kitchen area. There’s something satisfying about seeing his ready compliance with her request. He pokes around in the containers adding food items to her plate and his own. When he seems satisfied with his choices, he wanders back over, handing a half-full plate her way.</p><p>They both resume their meal and Claire relaxes a bit as the ache in her leg subsides into a background of sensation. As if sensing her thoughts, Neil’s eyes dart to her leg propped up on the coffee table. Finding whatever he’s looking for about the status of her injury satisfactory, he continues watching TV.</p><p>Claire puts her plate on the coffee table on top of Neil’s abandoned plate and away from where her leg is resting. Burrowing back into the soft cushion of her couch, she pretends to watch the documentary but secretly uses the angle to again examine the man next to her. She wonders what he’s thinking, relaxing here in her apartment on a Saturday afternoon when he could be doing a number of things other than hanging out with her. She’d forgotten how easy their company tended to be outside of the hospital – it’s why they’d had to stop hanging out before things got more complicated that they were willing to risk.</p><p>Yet he’s here. Being risky.</p><p>A shifting of the couch alerts her to his movement, and she diverts her gaze to the television as he stands and takes their plates to the kitchen. He sets them in the sink and starts cleaning up their leftovers. After he’s packed everything and stowed it into her refrigerator, Claire hears him running the water to rinse off the dishes.</p><p>“Neil, I know you’re not in there cleaning my kitchen. Just leave the dishes. I’ll get them later.”</p><p>He pops back into the doorway at her question, hands damp as he grabs a stray plate and cup he’d left on her kitchen table. “You are not going to get it later. We’re going to have a beer and finish this series, you’re going to fall asleep on your couch and those poor dishes will probably stay neglected until tomorrow.” He walks back over to the sink. “It’s a couple of plates and some silverware that’ll take two seconds to clean. What kind of running partner would I be if I made you hobble around when I can take care of it.”</p><p>“It’s the principle,” she shouts back over the sound of the water. “I’ll get too spoiled.” His laughter sparks that maddening flutter in her chest.</p><p>“Too late for that!” he yells back. True to his word, he’s finished quickly and returns to the couch with her promised beer.</p><p>She thanks him and curls her uninjured leg up under her as she shifts to her side. Raising her beer to him, she offers a toast. “Here’s to being an unexpected casualty of our first 10K race.”</p><p>“And to runner justice being served.”</p><p>They tap bottles and drink long pulls from their beers, clearing enjoying the reward.</p><p>Neil turns back to watching the documentary, and Claire is happy to see him so relaxed. They all work hard, but him especially. And despite how odd things are for them right now, she’s glad their friendship is strong enough to spend this kind of time together.</p><p>She alternates between watching the television and watching him, understanding on a new level why she’s willing to wait things out. It’s moments like these when she can so clearly see there being a future for the two of them somehow.</p><p>Neil must have seen a notification flash on his phone next to him since he snatches it up to inspect the message. He taps away to pull it up and she watches his eyes dart back and forth as he reads. She hopes it isn’t work calling him in. It’d be a shame to cut their leisurely afternoon short after such a dramatic morning. But whatever the note, she can see it amuses him as he swipes at the screen.</p><p>“Hey, come check this out.”</p><p>Claire uncurls herself and scoots over on the couch until she’s right next to him, propping her feet up on the oversized ottoman he’s stretched his legs out on. Peeking over his shoulder, she can see that they’ve sent out pictures from the race. Their bibs had a tracker in them that activated the cameras at each kilometer. So, there’s an image of the two of them as they made their way through the race. Neil flicks back to the beginning of pictures to show her the full series.</p><p>The first few shots are relaxed as they adjusted to the crowd and figured out their pace. They’re still looking pristine in their running garb, not yet sweaty and rumpled. In one of the early shots, they’re mostly blocked by the huddle of runners crowding each other. By kilometer five, they’re starting to look a little rough around the edges. The image show’s Neil’s t-shirt looks a little damp around the collar. Claire’s hair at her temples is starting to dampen. But they seem to be in good spirits and focused. They’d been mostly silent for the first segment as they got their bearings, but they’d started to chat towards the middle.</p><p>By kilometer seven, the image reveals them both doing a fair bit of sweating and the crowd around them thinned out with the speedsters way ahead and others slowing down to preserve steam. But the image of kilometer eight has caught Neil in mid-laugh, eyes filled with mirth at something smug she’s shared by the looks of her expression.</p><p>Neil moves to swipe to the next picture, but she stops him with a gentle brush on his hand. “What are you laughing at there?” She really wants to know, but she’s also enjoying this view of him so joyful about something she’s shared.</p><p>“Hmm, maybe I’m laughing at your ridiculous plan to convince Glassman to put a pool table in the resident’s lounge.” Claire can hear the teasing in his voice.</p><p>The idea had come to her after their team outing a few weeks ago to a bar after a rough day in the ER. Even Andrews and Lim had come out. Claire had wandered to the quieter back room with Shaun, and when the others finally found them again, the two were in an intense game of pool, both of them very seriously trying to outplay the other. Shaun was a brilliant strategist, of course, but Claire took more risks. The others had watched them play and they’d discovered that pool was something they all really liked. It had been a really good night.</p><p>With the kind of body he has, watching Neil as he leans over the pool table, face intense with concentration as he sets his sights on the perfect shot, turned out to be one of the sexist things she'd seen. Watching Neil watching her as she leans over a pool table, face intense with concentration as he sets his sights on her? Even sexier.</p><p>She nudges him in the shoulder. “We’ll see who gets the last laugh when I make my very compelling case.”</p><p>He moves on to the next picture and at seeing it Claire moves in closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder to get a closer look.</p><p>The image for kilometer nine is clearly after she’d been hurt. On top of being a sweaty mess, her face is pinched in pain and ashen. Neil is frowning and running closer to her than in the other photos.</p><p>“Oh wow, look at my leg.” From the picture you can see a dark patch that isn’t the same as the random small moist spots on her other leg from where they’d been splashed with passing water sprinklers. It’s probably the moment when she’s the most bloody, her wound not having clotted yet, and it’s probably aggravated by her running motion.</p><p>“It seems kind of crazy now that you just kept on going.”</p><p>“Tell me about it. My leg is definitely killing me right now.”</p><p>Concerned, Neil turns his head to check her leg and then look into her face for signs of pain. “Do you need something stronger for the pain? I can call it in and go pick it up.”</p><p>His worry makes her smile warmly at him. “I’m okay, just exaggerating.” He continues to scrutinize her. “Really, Neil. I’m fine.” He frowns but nods and looks back at his phone.</p><p>The last picture of them crossing the finish line takes them both by surprise.</p><p>Neil has his arm around Claire, holding her up as she makes those last painful steps to the end. She looks as if she’s about to collapse. But there’s also a small smile at her lips in triumph. Neil also has a relieved look on his face. She’s got her arm around his neck to hold on to him and he’s holding her hand to keep her steady.</p><p>Instead of looking forward to experience their moment of accomplishment, they’re looking at each other. Exhausted and happy to be done, there’s also something to the way they’re holding each other’s gaze with such affection that also says that they’re happy to have done it together.</p><p>Claire reaches over and enlarges the photo to filter out some of the background runners.</p><p>“Aww, look at us,” she gushes. “We did it.”</p><p>“Barely,” he adds and they both laugh.</p><p>Leaning more heavily into his side, she stares at the two of them in the image and feels something sing in her heart. She feels his cheek brush the top of her head as he looks down at her, now so squarely in her personal space. Maybe it’s because they’re used to it from working together, but neither seems awkward about the close proximity. Quite the contrary judging by the way Neil slightly leans into her as well.</p><p>Claire sighs. “Make sure to send those to me.”</p><p>He closes out the pictures link and returns to his email to comply. “Done. And who knows, I may need to remind you of what a good guy I am, sacrificing my ace time to carry you over the finish line.”</p><p>“You weren’t carrying me!”</p><p>“I was basically carrying you.”</p><p>“You were assisting me. Giving me a hand.”</p><p>“A.K.A. carrying.” She gets a close view of his grin from where her head still rests against his shoulder.</p><p>Claire scoffs. “Well, I <em>thought</em> you were a good guy until just now.”</p><p>Neil laughs and puts his phone back on the arm of the sofa, switching it out for the remote. He rewinds the documentary for a few minutes and discards the remote before resting his hands casually against his stomach.</p><p>He’s made no indication that he wants her to move so she doesn’t.</p><p>As she’s always imagined, Neil is pleasantly warm with his usual clean scent. His shoulder is relaxed and his soft t-shirt a pleasant cushion against her cheek. Leaning against him feels solid and safe. As she unwinds into him and blinks her way through the next episode of their documentary, she knows she could lie like this with him, not quite in his arms but in his comfortable orbit, forever.</p><p>With those sweet thoughts at the edge of her mind, she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.</p><p>TBC...</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neil had been wanting to watch this documentary for months but never seemed to make time. It’s as excellent as he’s heard, even if it’s a bit of a commitment in terms of episodes. And if there’s ever a time to binge watch a multiple-episode documentary, it’s while recovering from a 10K. This current episode is almost done, but he realizes he should probably go to the bathroom before the next starts.</p><p>The only problem is the woman currently snuggled up next to him fast asleep. And is it really a problem if he unequivocally wants her there?</p><p>When he looks down at her, he almost laughs at the slight pout in her expression as she sleeps. He leans over to tuck an escaping tendril of hair behind her ear. He wonders if she’s cold given how curled into him she is, but she seems comfortable enough. Glancing down at her leg, he doesn’t see any signs of additional bleeding or any new bruising which is a relief.</p><p>Yet as much as he’s enjoying the feel and image of Claire Brown next to him, he really does need to go to the bathroom. Very gently he scoots off of the couch, trying to displace his weight in a way that doesn’t disturb her. He lays her down softly against the back of the couch and hopes he’ll be quick enough that she doesn’t notice his absence. If his memory is correct, he’s pretty sure she’s told him what a heavy sleeper she is. </p><p>When he returns, she’s in exactly the same spot, still deeply asleep. He slides back onto the couch next to her and puts his feet back up. When he reaches for her again and moves her back to his side, he hesitates for a moment, enjoying the feel of surrounding her. Instead of settling her against him, he puts his arm around her and moves her into his embrace.</p><p>There’s some anxiety about whether he’s overstepped their boundary. Mostly though, it feels so damn good to finally have her in his arms, even if just during a weekend nap.</p><p>Before he can second guess himself too much, he hears an adorable murmur escape her lips. His chest clenches and then pulses as she reaches up to wrap her arm around his middle, returning the embrace in her sleep. A sweet smile pulls at her lips as she gets comfortable. He chuckles softly and rests his hand at her waist.</p><p>After a while, he notices her funny sleep habits, the sound that’s a cross between a snore and a wheeze, the adorable sighs against his neck and twitches to her fingers at his side, just short of tickling him. Through her thin shirt, he can feel her warm body, the same heat pressing against his side from neck to waist where her left leg is curled in between them. He crosses his feet along the ottoman and turns back to the television as the documentary continues to play.</p><p>He could get used to this.</p><p>Before long, his eyes begin to drift and he’s thinking there are worse things than snoozing with a beautiful woman on a Saturday afternoon.</p><p>He lets his mind wander to the possibility of getting to do this all the time, whenever he wants, or at least whenever their schedules allow for it. Reclining deeper into the couch, he lets his head gravitate towards hers where it’s resting against his shoulder. The first tickle of her curls against his cheek startle him, so much so that he pulls back. Examining her from above, he traces with his gaze the way her long lashes brush against her cheek in slumber, her mouth remains in a slight pout, pink lips slightly ajar as she breathes deeply in and out. Her injured leg is still extended next to his, not touching, but all that exposed skin is looking inviting, especially if he were to slide his leg next to hers.</p><p>A lesser man would not be able to resist this. But Neil is trying to do the best he can for the both of them, indulging only a tiny bit to remind him that what he feels is real and strong. He leans over her to place a soft kiss at her crown, breathing her in and loving her from this distance.</p><p>As he falls into a light sleep, he thinks to himself, ‘four more months.’</p><p>The next thing he registers is the intrusive ringing of his phone next to him, pulling him from a very comfortable dream of him and Claire on a ferris wheel. They hadn’t even reached the top where he hoped to steal a kiss.</p><p>He looks down to see Claire slowing stirring, probably confused about the unfamiliar ringtone. At some point during their nap, one of them had grasped the other’s hand and their fingers lay intertwined along his torso. Her skin is soft against his, so different from the brushes in the OR separated by protected layers and professionalism.</p><p>Reluctantly, he lets her go to reach for his phone sitting on the arm of the couch. He keeps his hand at her waist to hold him to her. Depending on who it is, maybe he can ignore it and they can go back to cuddling on the couch in a light doze.</p><p>Claire yawns against him and turns her face into the solid plane of his chest. “Tell Joe that you’re not available to go to the strip club tonight.”</p><p>He feels her weight on his chest as he chuckles. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?” He’d unfortunately failed to notice Claire lying on the couch in the lounge one day when he’d confirmed his Saturday night plans with one of his old college friends’ bachelor parties. Claire had been making fun of him for months over it.</p><p>“Mm-mm. Never.” Once he’s abandoned her hand, she reaches across him again to keep him in the circle of her arms.</p><p>Neil groans. It’s the hospital.</p><p>If his tone is a little grumpy when he answers and hears from the attending-on-duty that the three other back-ups are sick and they need a hand after getting backlogged earlier in the day, well, he’s entitled. He confirms that he’ll be there soon and hangs up.</p><p>“Sick, my ass,” he mumbles. Andrews he knows is out of town but there is no way that Stemler, Jackson, and Singh are all out of commission. He’d bet money that Jackson shows up on Monday with a hiker’s tan. For a second, he thinks about calling Audrey, but it’s the first weekend she’s had off in over a month, and he can’t bring himself to ruin it.</p><p>Sighing, he sinks into the couch, petulant about having to leave the comfort of his surroundings and the woman in his arms.</p><p>“Short-handed?” Claire asks, not letting him go either. Neil hums a confirmation. “There’s no way Dr. Jackson is sick. He was telling anyone who’d listen that he was going camping this weekend.” Neil grins at their identical thought.</p><p>He moves his hand up to her back, meaning to nudge her up so he can prepare to leave. Instead, he begins rubbing circles across her body, feeling her muscles relax against the palm of his hand.</p><p>“How’s your leg?” he asks.</p><p>Looking down at where she’s stretched her leg alongside his, he notices her wigging her shin to test it out. She shrugs.</p><p>“It’s as good as can be expected. Not too bad. I’ll take some more Aleve in a couple hours.”</p><p>Neil resists the urge to again brush his lips against the wisps of curls at her forehead. “If you need anything stronger, let me know and I’ll drop it off later.” She nods against his chest, rubbing her cheek along his thick t-shirt. She still seems unwilling to move away to let him leave.</p><p>They sit like that for a few more minutes, Neil rubbing her back and Claire practically purring in his lap. That sensation did nothing to motivate him towards work.</p><p>“Alright, let me get out of here. The sooner I get there the sooner I can do my time and go home. I hope.”</p><p>Claire sighs and finally unravels herself from around him, although she doesn’t go far. Neil slides his arm from around her, stopping to brush a sleep-tousled wisp of hair from her eyes. She smiles over to him at the gesture.</p><p>“Just don’t call Lim. She deserves her break.” He nods and scoots up to sit on the ottoman so he can pull his socks and shoes back on. “And take some food, will you. I’m never going to be able to eat all of that.”</p><p>He considers suggesting he come back for it later tonight since he doesn’t want to leave it in his car or haul it around the hospital, but thinks better of it. Too tempting.</p><p>“Okay. I split it all up when I put it away.”</p><p>Claire grins sleepily at him as she eases into the warm spot he’s vacated. But she doesn’t relax there long. She leans forward gripping him by the shoulders before wrapping her arms loosely around his neck.</p><p>He wonders if she’s tapped into his secret thoughts about every gesture she can use to turn him on.</p><p>“Don’t you dare take all the dumplings,” she demands in his ear. </p><p>Neil winces. “I do not have a death wish. There’s plenty left. She releases him, letting her fingers slide along his arm in retreat. Hopefully, she doesn’t catch the quiet hitch in his breath or sense the way he follows her touch with the sway of his body.</p><p>Blowing out a stream of air as he stands, he retreats to the kitchen to get his bearings back a bit and grab the bag of food he’d set aside for himself. When he returns to the living room, she’s fully curled up in his old spot a light blanket across her hips, presumably to replace his warmth.</p><p>God, he doesn’t want to leave this.</p><p>“Duty calls,” Claire says, blinking sleepily up at him. Neil glowers, but nods. Slinging over his shoulder the gym bag he’d brought with his shower supplies and extra set of clothes, he goes back to the couch to get his phone. Since it’s by her head, Claire reaches over to grab it and hand it to him.</p><p>Neil stands there, probably looking dumb with his bag of food in one hand, gym bag ready to go, and stalling as she extends her arm out to him. Finally, he reaches over only to have her pull back as he’s about to grab the phone.</p><p>“You promise there’s still dumplings in there?” There’s a playfulness to her expression even as her eyes show her fatigue and likely discomfort from her leg.</p><p>Laughing, Neil raises a brow. “It’d serve you right if I took them all. You practically ate your weight in them earlier.”</p><p>“Just re-fueling,” she insists. “Don’t joke, though. I’m hurt and weak.”</p><p>He tilts his head to the side, assessing her. “You look good to me,” he says, knowing there’s a heat to his words. A promise of what’s down the road if and when they get here. “And there are a lot of words I’d use to describe you, and weak is nowhere on the list.”</p><p>She still holds his phone and he imagines dropping his bags to lean into her and show her the consequences of allowing him to see this teasing side to her. Shyly, she reaches to offer it again.</p><p>“I’ll have to hear about this list sometime,” she says, this time letting him grip the phone, their fingers brushing in the exchange.</p><p>They hold each other’s gaze for a few beats. “Sometime, I’m sure you will,” he assures her, letting her see the full expression of his affection for her; standing in front of her, open and wanting her to see his love and respect, and patience.</p><p>She closes her eyes at experiencing so sincerely what he’s revealed, then blinks away the emotion he’s stirred in her.</p><p>Pulling the blanket over her shoulders, Claire smiles, a little more distant, but warm. “Well, get out of here then. I’ve got a nap to finish.”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am.” He hefts the gym bag higher on his shoulder. “Hey,” he calls out bringing her attention back to him. “Call me if you need anything. I’m serious. Don’t be a stubborn martyr.”</p><p>Claire laughs. “Believe me, if the moment calls for you to wait on me hand and foot, I’ll take it. But I <em>am</em> feeling okay.” She pauses, gives him that intense look that makes him want to kiss her senseless. “Thanks for taking care of me today.”</p><p>Neil sighs. “Anytime. Get some rest.” Before he can do anything silly like act on his desire to kiss her senseless, he heads for the door, picking up his keys from her hallway table on the way.</p><p>“And thanks for being a good sport about losing our little fundraising competition,” Claire yells into the hallway. “You were a worthy adversary.”</p><p>“Whatever,” he yells back. But her smart mouth makes him smile.</p><p>Opening the door and flicking the lock in place, he stops before leaving the comfort of the last few hours – not so much the exhaustion of the race and Claire’s injury. But the sureness of going through these mundane moments of life with someone whose heart you know and who knows you. Closing the door behind him, he sighs, sheds the relaxation of this afternoon with her to prepare for the bustle of work he’s expecting at the hospital.</p><p>These extended months of longing and denying and shutting off what he wants has its moments of taking a toll. But then you get one near perfect afternoon and it’s enough to keep going.</p><p>And for not the first time – or hundredth time probably – he realizes for certain that she’s worth it.  </p><p>END</p>
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